


Fear of Falling

by LateStarter58



Series: Sarah's Smutty Notebook [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Sexual disfunction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 10:10:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16952034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: Andrea has a problem, and it seems no man on Earth can help her





	Fear of Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Another of my smutty Loki one shots

‘You see…the thing is… Oh this is sooo embarrassing!’

I looked at the teenage girl squirming on the chair in front of me, blushing wildly. It had to be something to do with sex or toilet matters. Nothing else made the English quite that uncomfortable. I braced myself. Please don’t let it be…

‘When my boyf… when we… I mean, I can when I’m on _my own_ … I mean, I feel really awful, you see… He tries really hard…’

Her voice was getting quieter all the time until she stopped speaking completely. I swallowed hard; I had to do my job, painful though I knew this would be for me. I leaned forward and touched the girl’s hand with just my fingertips. ‘It’s OK, Leanne, you can tell me. It’s why I’m here. Anything you say here will remain totally confidential.’

Her voice was suddenly louder again, and the words all came tumbling out in a rush. ‘I don’t come when we have sex. I can’t seem to…you know…quite _get_ there. Is there something wrong with me?’

Her eyes were pleading even louder than the words. I hesitated. This was the very question I dread hearing. Not because I am uncomfortable talking about sex; I am a nurse at a University, and before that I worked at the GUI (you know, the clap-) clinic; I have specialist qualifications in sexual health. No, that wasn’t it. I was dreading this _particular_ question because – quite simply - I didn’t know how to answer it.

You see, I had exactly the same problem myself.

I had suffered with it all my life. Now I was 36, and still no man had ever been able to bring me to orgasm. I could masturbate alone and get there, no trouble. But if there was a man in the room, no matter how handsome, sexy and thoughtful, whatever he did, I simply could not quite… let go.

I reached for the pile of leaflets I keep handy. The administration had warned me when I took up the post that I would spend a lot of time dealing with sexual matters and hangovers and they were right. After all, that is why they appointed someone with my background and experience. The only other problem I saw which came close in frequency was stress. But this was the first time in two years that this particular difficulty had come up, thank goodness. The generic sexual problems pamphlet had several website addresses as well as useful suggestions (all of which _I_ had tried to no avail). I hate to give generic advice, but on this topic I had no choice.

Walking home later that day, I was unable to enjoy the sights and sounds of autumn as I usually did. The damp, musty-spice smell of fallen leaves; the black nuggets of berries on blackthorn and bramble; the flash of silver-gilt as a passing squirrel hurried to his store with another acorn; it was all wasted on me that afternoon. I was too busy watching home-movies in my head: an endless parade of relationships which ran aground on the same rocks.

_If you **really** loved me_

_You’re not normal_

_What’s wrong with you?_

_You must be frigid or something_

_Maybe you’re a lesbian_

_Don’t you trust me?_

Turning a corner near my flat I was hit full in the face by a great gust of wind. It was cold and carried the promise of rain. Noticing my surroundings properly for the first time since I left the University Medical Centre, I saw the sky matched my mood perfectly: dark and brooding clouds scudded across it, and the temperature was falling as fast as the sun was setting behind the railway station to my left. Pulling my coat tighter around me I ran for home, just making it as the first drops began to patter onto the paving of the pathway.

 

I was sitting on the sofa later, watching the news with a cup of tea when my phone vibrated.

**< Still up for the film?Bx>**

_Oh shit, it’s movie night!_ I glanced at the window, the rain was still falling, but the wind seemed to have dropped a bit. Maybe a bit of Hitchcock will do me good. A distraction, at least.

**_< Of course! C U there Ax>_ **

Bev and I had been going to the cinema together since we were at school. We kept it up all through our teens and twenties, even when I was living and working in another town, admittedly not too far away. Now she had kids and a husband it was more important to her than ever. The local arts cinema was having a Hitchcock season and tonight it was one of my favourites, _Vertigo._ I always felt that the middle-aged Jimmy Stewart seemed a tad elderly for the whole thing, but it was such a great movie I forgave it that one flaw. I wrapped up against the October damp and set off into town determined to take my mind off my ‘problem’.

Naturally, as a close friend of such long-standing, Bev knew something was up immediately. She was, in fact, the only person I had confided in apart from a former colleague at the sexual health unit at the General. Over a drink after the film I told her in vague terms what had happened that morning.

‘Oh Andie, how dreadful for you! I suppose it’s an occupational hazard, though.’

I nodded. ‘It has happened before, but not in this job.’ I sighed. ‘I had managed to forget about it for a while, you know, since the whole Peter thing…’

My last relationship had ended like all the others, badly. There was a time, not so very long ago, when a woman didn’t _have_ to orgasm, or could just pretend and the man would be perfectly happy with that. Of course, in some cultures, sexual satisfaction for the female partner is not a priority, or even discouraged, but I was lucky (I think I mean that) to live in twenty-first-century Europe. I tried to fake it sometimes in my youth, but as the years passed - and especially when I felt there was really a chance of a future with someone - I wouldn’t do that anymore. Unfortunately that only caused me trouble.

Some lovers took it as a challenge, but they soon tired of what they thought was a game on my part. Others were discouraged, and accused me of making them feel like failures. A couple got angry with me, as if I was doing it on purpose to thwart them. None of these approaches helped me. If I knew what was causing it I would have known how to fix it. But I just didn’t.

I walked Bev back to her car; she lived out of town in one of the satellite villages nowadays and she seemed more nervous than she used to be. Perhaps being a parent makes you see dangers more readily. I, on the other hand, was less scared than I had been in my twenties. There had been a woman murdered in the town a few months earlier and that was still unsolved, so I was on higher alert than usual, but still I had no qualms about walking back through the dark streets alone after 11pm. At least, I thought so until I felt a presence behind me.

I turned quickly, hoping to catch sight of whoever it was, but nobody was there. I could hear some shouting in the distance, probably drunken squaddies. Being both a garrison and a university town means we are never short of well-oiled revellers. But as for that back-of-the-neck feeling I had… No, nobody to be seen. Yet it persisted.

As I neared my flats I saw a flash of something in the corner of my vision. I looked of course, but apart from a stretching cat and a pile of fallen leaves stirring in the wind, nothing. I had my keys arranged between my fingers as a potential weapon, but had no need of them. I punched the security code in at the outer door and stepped into the safety of the lobby. At least, I assumed I was safe there.

Just as the lift doors were closing, a man slipped between them and joined me. I had to look; he was dressed so oddly. I was 100% certain I had never seen him before, so he had to be new or a visitor. Judging by the strange outfit, he was going to a fancy-dress party, although no one had put any notices up, which you are supposed to do. He had long dark hair and was dressed in leather and metal, green, black and gold. An early Halloween do, maybe? I glanced at him again as the lift started to rise and was transfixed by his face. He was _gorgeous._ I coughed and looked down, suddenly fascinated by his boots. Actually, they were pretty amazing; biker-style, but clearly of a very high quality.

He chuckled, and the low sound of it sent all kinds of sensations chasing each other around my body. A frisson of fear up and down my spine; tingling in my extremities as if in anticipation of great excitement; pure, unadulterated lust straight to my core: the sound was sheer sex.

Trying to clear my thoughts, which were suddenly foggy, I attempted to break what felt like a spell.

‘So, what are you going as?’

I looked up into his eyes again and realised too late what a mistake that was. He was regarding me with a sort of evil glee. He didn’t speak, so I tried again, vainly attempting to keep control of the situation which seemed to be slipping from my fingers.

‘The get-up.’ I indicated his attire. ‘Fancy-dress is it?’

He looked down at himself, as if just noticing what he was wearing. Then he looked back at me and smiled slowly. It was the scariest smile I have ever seen. Suddenly I felt very threatened. It occurred to me that the lift should have reached my floor ages ago. I checked the panel: everything looked normal. I raised my eyes to the floor-indicator lights. We were going up, but very slowly. I heard another rumbling laugh from my companion. Every hair on me rose up. Now I was properly frightened. I stabbed at the button for my floor again, but the lift continued at the same pace, barely moving.

_‘There is no cause for alarm, Andrea. I have no intention of harming you.’_

In retrospect, that statement, coupled with the fact that _he knew my name_ should have made me utterly terrified. But the voice, oh sweet Jesus, _THE VOICE._ I have spent some time trying to think how to describe it, but there really aren’t any words in the English language that can do it justice. Velvety; dark, 85% cocoa-butter Swiss chocolate? Yes, but with that, a glass of something deep and rich and dangerous from Médoc or points south, with all the complexity that implies. And also, well, again - _pure sex…_ I was lost at that moment. He could have said anything, any threat, it wouldn’t have mattered. The voice alone had seduced me.

‘Who are you?’ I heard myself saying.

_‘I am Loki. Of Asgard.’_

_Ah. So it is fancy-dress then. I mean, he’s in jail, right? Back where that Thor bloke took him. Not standing in the lift with me, stirring all sorts of stuff up inside me, stuff that I have been dampening down for months because I don’t want to go there anymore._

I gaped at him. I knew damn well he wasn’t a fake. Nothing about this glorious creature was of this planet. But what the fuck was he doing here, and what did he want with me?

_‘I know you have a problem, Andrea. The sort of difficulty that I can help you with, if you will allow me.’_

I pondered this for a moment. He didn’t mean… Not _THAT,_ surely! I looked back up at that pale face, contrasting so beautifully with his long black hair. This was the villain of New York; the alien maniac who wanted to rule us all. We had all seen the footage, the destruction. He was always a shadowy figure, a blurry image on CCTV, but there was one thing we all knew about him: he was the bad guy. Why on earth was he here, in my apartment block, offering me sex therapy? And why on earth was I considering accepting - no deciding to accept - his offer?

I know what you are thinking. Surely she has other problems in her life, so why did she assume he meant the orgasm thing? Well, I have no explanation for that except that I knew that was what he meant. Part of his ‘magic’ I suppose. In any case, the doors opened on my floor and without hesitation I walked to my flat, unlocked the door and held it for him to follow me inside. A thought flitted across my brain unbidden: _what if this was actually the murderer of that woman standing in front of me? Have I just signed my own death-warrant?_

That soft chuckle sounded again as he stepped closer and stroked my hair, still damp from the autumnal weather. He smelled of spring water and pine trees. I took a deep draught and felt the coolness of him wash through me.

_‘No, no my dear Andrea. I would never harm you. My only desire is to assist you to fulfil yourself.’_

I am a medical professional, highly trained and forensic in my thinking, but none of this scenario seemed to bother me that evening. His mysterious appearance inside a locked building; the ability to control the speed of the lift; mind-reading; an intimate knowledge of my deep-seated sexual problem: all of it appeared completely unsurprising to me at the time. Actually, in all honesty it doesn’t bother me now, either. I mean, he is a _god,_ after all.

Loki’s hand was caressing my upper arm gently through the leather of my coat, his eyes running over my face as if seeing me for the first time. He smelt glorious and I found I was unable to drag my gaze away from his mouth.

‘You know, Loki,’ I started, trying to form my thoughts into something resembling coherence, ‘it’s very kind of you to offer, but I’m not sure anyone can…’

He interrupted me brusquely.

_‘Ah but that’s where you are wrong, my pet. I have some very … specific… skills in this area.’_

‘Yes, er, well…’ I tried to turn away, but his grip on my arm tightened subtly. It felt icy. I settled for averting my eyes. ‘I don’t think it’s ever really been the _man’s_ , you know, _fault._ ’

That laugh again; quiet, rumbling, sexy. _‘I am sure it hasn’t, but that doesn’t make it yours either.’_

My head snapped back to face him. What on earth did he mean?

_‘Can I persuade you to allow me to try?’_

His voice was softer, lower but less menacing, but nonetheless I shook my head. Now it came to it, I wasn’t sure I had the heart to try yet another time, even with _him_. It was just too awful, humiliating. And I could feel the tension starting in the back of my neck, that creeping feeling of impending doom. I tugged against him and this time he let me loose, and I took the opportunity to remove my coat and hang it up. I heard footsteps across the room, and when I turned back he was over by the sofa. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

‘Please, sit down.’

He did, after nodding in an oddly formal way. and I felt a little more comfortable. He was very tall and standing up he seemed to fill the room. He patted the seat next to him and reluctantly I went to join him. As I sat down he looked at me with a tenderness that would have shocked anyone who knew him only from the Battle of New York. I was still sure there was no point and then he spoke.

_‘You say you find it difficult to reach the sweet release of climax. This does not deter my intentions, no my dear, it rather spurs me on. Your pleasure is my newest challenge.’_

If you could have seen his face as I did, and heard the tone of his voice, then you would know why I did what I did. Quite simply, I knew that if anyone _could_ do it for me, it might be Loki. It was also obvious that there was no point in arguing with him. His hand came up and touched my cheek, cool but not chilling, the back of it sweeping over my lips, then it turned and I felt the tips of his long fingers tracing the line of my jaw down to my neck. My entire body seemed to light up like a Christmas tree; it was the most erotic thing I had ever experienced. I shuddered and Loki’s lips twisted into a smirk.

‘Loki, I’m still not sure…’

His finger rose steadily and pressed against my lips to silence me.

_‘I understand my pet, but let me try to prove you wrong. Now, where was I?’_

Lazily he retraced his movements and continued his progress down my neck, causing little juddering shivers to rack my body. I squirmed in my seat, which made my leg press more firmly against his. He chuckled again, then his face became serious once more as his fingertips stroked the skin where it tightened over my collarbones. It felt as if all the processing power of my brain was focussed on those tiny points of contact. My entire body was a mass of gooseflesh despite the heating in my flat.

One finger brushed the top of my breast and I gasped and arched my back towards him; he chucked darkly. His face came closer to mine and I felt his breath stirring my hair. His lips ghosted over my ear and I whimpered; his feather-light touches and near-touches were driving me to a frenzy. No doubt all part of his plan. I felt a movement and looked down to see all the buttons on my blouse had been unfastened. Loki’s hand was sliding up under the soft fabric over my shoulder and gently working the garment off my body.

I gasped as his fingers slid softly over me and he looked me in the eye again. There was a split second pause, then his mouth softly but steadily pressed against mine. I felt my lids drop as I concentrated on the sensation of his thin lips on my fuller ones, then his tongue began little darting movements as I gradually opened up to him. I was dimly aware that his other hand had joined in to remove my blouse completely and he was tracing the edges of my bra across my back. I whimpered and the laugh was back, resonating through me and ratcheting up my desire for him.

Our tongues danced against one another. He tasted of herbs and fresh things; I felt a coolness under the heat of his kiss like peppermint. He seemed like a man, albeit a very attractive one, but not quite; as if someone had engineered a facsimile and got a few details wrong. His hands were travelling further down my back now and I was intensely aware of where he was touching me, his fingertips tracing runes on my fevered skin. I allowed my thoughts to fast-forward to the act and I moaned into our kiss. This seemed to spur him on and I felt one hand lift away from me and in a flash my jeans and boots were gone. The leather and wool under my own hands was similarly missing, and I found I was caressing the pale perfection of his lightly-muscled torso.

His lips left mine and followed the trail his fingers had taken on me, reaching the upper swell of my breast. I leaned back against the sofa cushions as his hands reached my hips. I was floating on a magic carpet of sensuality; his lips and fingers were carrying me along with feather-light touches, no more. In the corner of my eye I saw his right hand flash a gesture and there I lay, naked and exposed to his lustful scrutiny. I tried to cover myself and found I was unable to move.

_‘You need to surrender yourself to me completely, my Andrea. Completely.’_

A panic tried to rise up in me, and tears trickled down my cheeks. I wasn’t afraid of him, nor of the situation; what scared me was the idea of relinquishing control so utterly.

‘Loki, I can’t…!’

_‘Shshsh, my pet. You are safe. Let me take care of you.’_

His voice was like a warm enfolding blanket.

I have played the next few minutes – or were they hours? I no longer feel able to say – over and over in my head. Did he use some ‘magic’ on me? Was I drugged somehow? I can’t tell if I gave up control willingly or not, not anymore. But give it up I did. I watched as Loki’s lips settled on first one, then the other nipple, teasing them to hardness with the hot/cold sweetness of his tongue. I arched my back – that much I could do – and he sucked more of the flesh into his mouth, suckling gently while he rubbed and pinched the other breast. The tingling pleasure ran directly to my core, and I was aware I was becoming very wet. I could not move my arms or legs which frustrated me as I wanted to touch him. I heard him click his tongue in an irritated fashion.

_‘You forget. This is for you.’_

With that, Loki resumed his worship of my body, his tongue and lips caressing and pressing and his fingertips smoothing and tickling as they worked along to my invisibly-tethered wrists and down my sides. By now I was desperate for friction to relieve the pressure between my legs but despite writhing I could not close my thighs. A dark chuckle echoed through my skin and around my head. _Had I heard that or just felt it?_

_‘Patience, my dear. This cannot be rushed.’_

I began to lose track of time. His hands ran over me, from my ankles to my head. His mouth seemed to be everywhere: my toes, my earlobes, my fingers. Everywhere, that is, except the place I really wanted – _needed_ – it to be. I was becoming desperate for him to touch me there. My mind reeled; I could not gather my thoughts into coherence. The whole thing began to take on the characteristics of an out-of-body experience, except that I was acutely, wonderfully aware of what my body was feeling and little else.

Just as I had decided that I was about to lose what remained of my mind, I felt his cool touch on the insides of my thighs. His fingers walked their way agonizingly slowly towards my by now dripping core. I felt a rush of cool air and then he was kissing my clit so softly I barely felt any pressure. But nonetheless it sent of jolt of pleasure through me that was so powerful I screamed his name.  Gently, inexorably, Loki kissed and licked me: lapping at my folds; swirling his cool tongue around my entrance; running the tip of it rapidly over my little nub. My screams turned to moans, then whimpers as I felt something begin to form in my belly.

I became aware of a new sensation; first one, then two fingers were gently pushed inside me, and I felt my walls convulsing around them.

_‘It is close, my dear one. The time has come. Let it go.’_

His mouth returned to my clit, which he caressed teasingly with his tongue, then he sucked hard on it, drawing it between his lips. The coil which had been tightening in me constricted a little more then released. I clamped down on Loki’s fingers, my back arched and all my muscles flexed. Every nerve in my body vibrated in harmony. I was awash with pleasure; it suffused me. My lips tingled; my fingers thrummed on the sofa; when my breath returned I spoke his name as a prayer. I looked down and his mouth was still there. He smiled, and the tiny movement sent another rush of exquisite joy through me, making me writhe again against his hand.

Again and again he would move or I would and the orgasm just perpetuated itself. How long it went on, only Loki knows. I began to black out, and finally he relented, sliding up my body and kissing me deeply, almost lovingly on the mouth. My hands were free, and I stroked his black locks as his head settled on my bosom. I was, at last, sated. I felt utterly spent, barely able to speak above a whisper, but I wanted to thank him, to apologise for doubting him, to tell him how fabulous it had been. That finger came up and stilled me again.

_‘I know my pet. It was my pleasure to help you. Now sleep.’_

‘But Loki, what about you?’

He chuckled against my breast, sending new shock-waves throughout my trembling limbs.

_‘Oh have no fear, my darling. I must leave you shortly, but I will be back here very soon and you can – what is it you humans say? – return the compliment.’_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Happy Landings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16975533) by [LateStarter58](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58)




End file.
